Tim's First Time
by sasha1600
Summary: Summary: McGee gets his first taste of Gibbs’s discipline. Tag to Driven. Warning: spanking of adult. Don’t like? Don’t read!
1. Chapter 1

**Tim's First Time**

**Summary**: McGee gets his first taste of Gibbs's discipline. Tag to Driven (4x11). **Warning**: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em.

Spoilers: passing references to various episodes Seasons 1-4 in addition to Driven.

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A/N: This is part of my series that began with The Lesson and contains references to that story and to The Apology. I recommend that you read The Apology before reading this, in order to understand McGee's reactions here. This one is a bit different from the other stories in the series - less action, more focus on what is going on inside the characters' heads. What can I say - after The Apology, my Muse decided that a very freaked-out Tim needed a lot of attention paid to his 'first time'.

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**Warning: This story is a graphic and detailed description of the physical and emotional experiences of an adult/adult discipline (i.e. non-sexual) spanking. If that isn't something you want to read, click on that 'back' button now. If you keep reading and get squicked, I don't want to hear about it.**

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NCIS Special Agent Tim McGee sat as his desk, absolutely certain that he was about to be spanked by his boss. He realised that his hands were actually shaking, and the ambient noises of the bullpen sounded muffled, like he was hearing them from underwater. He closed his eyes and tried to take slow, calming breaths. It didn't help. 

He knew that Gibbs preferred a more 'hands-on' approach to team discipline than the NCIS regs really allowed. He'd had to watch, astonished and helpless, when Gibbs had unceremoniously pinned Kate to his desk and whipped her with his belt for disobeying his orders. He had seen the way that Tony moved awkwardly and tried to avoid sitting down after his usual antics went a bit too far, and he'd once seen the welts on Tony's backside after Gibbs had taken a switch to him during a case on a Marine base. He had a pretty good idea what was going to happen to him.

It had taken him a long time to come to terms with his boss's unorthodox methods.

He'd accepted the head-slaps, initially because he was too terrified of Gibbs to protest and too eager to fit in to risk letting the others see him as someone who couldn't cope with being smacked upside the head when he screwed up. And they weren't so bad, really. They usually didn't hurt... much... and he always deserved either the rebuke or the wake-up call. And it was well known around the office that, while Gibbs demanded the highest standards of any team leader in the agency, he was also fiercely loyal to his team. If accepting his discipline was what it took to be a part of that, then he'd willingly endure the glares, the barked reprimands that never failed to remind anyone within ear-shot that Gibbs was a Marine Gunnery Sergeant, and yes, the head-slaps.

It had taken him a lot longer to accept that his boss really expected the team to submit to actual spankings. Eventually he'd recognised that it was part of Gibbs's sense of team loyalty – he'd do everything he could to protect his team from outsiders, including the agency's own chain of command, but avoiding formal sanctions such as suspensions meant that he needed another way to deal with serious offences... a way that was off-the-record, swift, and severe enough to leave no doubt that there had been sufficient punishment. Tony had reassured him that Gibbs had never given him more than he could handle. And it was obvious that the absence of a paper-trail meant that there would be no long-term career implications. McGee recognised that Gibbs's approach made sense in theory. But he'd never had to deal with the reality of it. Until now.

There were a couple of times when he knew he'd been extraordinarily lucky to escape a spanking. He'd messed up a couple of times in the field. He'd shot that cop, then hesitated when a gun had been pulled on Gibbs. He'd left Abby alone when he was supposed to be providing protection. Just recently, he'd not trusted Gibbs when his sister had turned up on his doorstep covered in blood. Over the years, he'd been scolded and head-slapped and threatened with removal from the team if he did it again. He'd even had his chair taken away for a while, and been made to kneel at his desk in a bizarre demonstration of contrition that made him wonder if Gibbs's background was really in the Marines... or a mediaeval monastery! But he'd never been ordered to bend over and let Gibbs whip him.

He knew that was about to change. He'd been so caught up in his own task that he hadn't noticed that the homicidal car had locked Abby inside and was proceeding efficiently to gas her. If Gibbs hadn't happened to step out of the elevator at the right moment and seen what was happening, Abby would be dead. And he would have been only a few feet away when it happened, and done nothing.

He knew from the look in Gibbs's eyes when the case was finally wrapped up, when he'd ordered him to go back to his desk and wait for him, that Gibbs wasn't going to let him off this time. He'd always imagined that he'd see anger there, or maybe disappointment, if he were ever facing a spanking. He hadn't expected also to see regret. But it had been the unmistakeable sense that Gibbs didn't want to do what he was planning to do that had made him realise what was coming.

He knew he deserved it. Not looking out for team-mates was one of the worst offences in Gibbs's eyes. It was right up there with blatant defiance of his orders or lying to him. And not looking out for _Abby _was particularly egregious – not only because Gibbs saw her as a surrogate daughter, but also because she didn't have the self-defence and weapons training that the field agents did.

But on top of everything else, it wasn't just that he knew that _Gibbs_ would think he deserved it. He'd let Abby down. And he'd let Gibbs down, just when his relationship with him seemed to be becoming more like what he'd always envied Tony for having with him. That chat Gibbs had had with him when he was upset about Tony still calling him 'Probie'. The way that he sometimes called him 'Elf Lord', with something like affection in his voice, when he didn't use nicknames for any other members of the team. And now he had utterly failed to live up to Gibbs's expectations of him, and betrayed his trust that he'd look out for his team-mate like he was supposed to do. McGee was surprised to find that, despite the sheer terror he was feeling, he actually felt that he deserved to be punished.

And he was feeling sheer terror. Blind, panic-stricken fear. He'd never had to endure a severe spanking, even as a child. The most he'd ever experienced was a few hard swats with his father's open palm. He didn't really know how bad it would be, and that frightened him. And he wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able to take whatever Gibbs was planning to do to him. Of course Gibbs would never actually harm anyone under his command; he was in no real danger. But he wasn't a Marine. He wasn't good at ignoring pain. He felt sick at the thought that Gibbs would almost certainly see him cry, and wondered if he'd be able to stop himself from pleading for it to end. In a moment of sudden clarity, he realised that he'd never been so afraid of anything in his life, and that there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

McGee bolted from his desk, not even hearing the ding of the elevator as he raced across the squad room. He suddenly found himself face-to-face with his boss.

'You going somewhere, McGee?'

'Just to the head, Boss.'

'Ok. Meet me in the conference room when you're done.'

The words were not spoken unkindly, but McGee felt as though ice-water had been poured down his spine, and his stomach clenched agonisingly. He barely made it into the men's room before he started to retch.

It seemed like both an eternity later, and far too soon, that he was standing at the door of the conference room. He'd rinsed his mouth, but the sour taste of vomit still lingered. His skin felt clammy. He was light-headed. He wondered desperately if he could manage to actually pass out and miss the whole thing.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

'I'm ready, Boss.'


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs stood facing the conference room door, leaning slightly against the table behind him. He had seen the fear in McGee's eyes, and knew his agent was currently emptying the contents of his stomach.

He wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen next. He didn't think McGee would actually bolt from the building, but if he ended up in Ducky's lab, either claiming stomach flu or admitting that he'd had a panic attack, that would be the end of it, and not just because the ME would tear a strip off of Gibbs for terrorising the boy. It was supposed to be punishment, not torture, and he wouldn't force the issue if McGee was really that scared of him. He'd ignored Kate's protests and punished her anyway, but her eyes had reflected anger and defiance rather than fear; he'd known without a doubt that it would not be traumatic for her, and taking the choice away from her had been an important part of the lesson that following orders was not optional. McGee didn't need to be reminded who was in charge, like a cub pinned by the alpha male until it recognised its place in the pack. And he couldn't learn what he needed to, if it felt like abuse rather than discipline.

Gibbs hadn't had to spank McGee before. He was sensitive, and his unwillingness to let Gibbs down was enough to motivate his good behaviour and ensure he learned from his mistakes. A few sharp words, or Gibbs's palm against the back of his head, usually satisfied any need for discipline. He wasn't at all like Tony, who needed constant reassurances that Gibbs still cared enough to haul him up short. And, unlike Tony, Tim didn't need Gibbs to provide the unfaltering support and uncompromising authority of a father on a regular basis.

And McGee too clearly was frightened by the idea of a spanking. Gibbs had seen his reaction the first time he'd punished Kate, and he'd heard his conversation with Tony after that fiasco with the snake. He would only consider spanking him if he truly needed an exceptionally severe punishment, because he knew that's what the younger man would feel it to be.

There had been a couple of borderline situations over the last couple of years, times when he could have justified spanking McGee, but decided on other measures instead. He wondered now if that had been a mistake. Letting him go so long without facing his fears was probably at least part of the reason why he was reacting so strongly now – he'd had too long to brood about it, and it had grown out of all proportion.

But he hadn't wanted to spank him just to prove to him that he could handle it. He'd waited until McGee needed a spanking. He'd waited until he saw what he'd seen today in his agent's eyes – the need for punishment severe enough to satisfy the demands of his own conscience. The younger man clearly felt terrible about what had happened, and would not easily be able to forgive himself, despite Abby's hug and assurances that she wasn't holding a grudge. Being punished by Gibbs would help him cope with that guilt, and allow him to move on. If McGee couldn't bring himself to face his fear and accept his punishment, the emotional pain of the next few weeks would far exceed the physical pain of the whipping Gibbs planned to give him.

And Gibbs had seen something else in McGee's eyes as well: the need for him to demonstrate unequivocally that he cared enough to discipline him the way he did Tony. That had never been an issue before. McGee had always been a bit insecure and worried about fitting in on the team, but he'd never seemed to consider it a sleight that his boss didn't spank him. But lately, it wasn't so much a concern about not belonging in a professional sense, and more of an uncertainty about his place in the complex interpersonal dynamic that made the team the best in the agency – part family, part Marine unit, part feudal exchange of protection and loyalty. Between that thing with his sister, and the secrecy about his book, McGee had to some extent isolated himself from the rest of the group and now, realising what he had done, was desperate for proof that the others weren't distancing themselves from him. Right now, not spanking him wouldn't be interpreted as a merciful reprieve, but simply as evidence that Gibbs treated him differently than he did DiNozzo.

Gibbs heard movement on the other side of the door and pushed himself off of the table. He waited patiently for McGee to take a firm hold of his nerves. He kept his face expressionless when the door opened but felt a surge of pride as he watched Tim step inside and declare himself ready to take his punishment. He was visibly trembling, but he was obviously determined to accept Gibbs's discipline. Gibbs knew from his days in the Corps that being brave wasn't about not feeling fear; it was about finding the strength to act despite that fear. He'd probably never convince the younger man of the fact, but McGee would have made a good Marine.

Gibbs knew that the best way to get Tim through this was to take control. He resisted the urge to ruffle that ridiculous hairstyle, to tell him that it wouldn't be nearly as bad as he feared, that he would be ok. Too much unexpected kindness would simply shatter the younger man's already fragile resolve. Gibbs had led enough men through frightening experiences to know that McGee would draw more strength from his boss's command presence than from his sympathy.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet but firm.

'You're a good agent, Tim. And a good man. I shouldn't have to remind you to pay attention, and to be aware of your surroundings. You know better than to get so focused on one task that you don't notice what's going on around you. That can get you killed in the field. And it almost got Abby killed today. You knew that damn car had already killed one person – there's no excuse for you not keeping an eye on Abby while she was checking it out. And I know you know that. I'm going to punish you, because I want you to remember this conversation the next time you feel yourself getting distracted.'

'I'll remember, Boss.'

'Well, we're going to make sure of that.'

He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder and steered him in the direction of the large table in the centre of the room.

'Trust me, Tim. Trust me to give you what you need.'

He could see the confusion on McGee's face when he said 'need' rather than 'deserve', but he didn't explain. McGee would have to figure it out for himself, later; working through his own emotional responses to being punished was part of the process.

'I do trust you, Boss.'

Gibbs was thankful to hear the quiet words. It pained him to know that his youngest agent was so afraid of being punished by him that it literally made him sick. At least McGee seemed to understand that he was safe.

McGee's eyes followed his hands as they moved to his belt, watching as he undid the buckle and pulled it free from its loops. He took a firm hold of the buckle and wrapped the belt several times around his hand, until he had a strap that he could control. McGee's eyes went wide with fear as he watched, and he paled visibly.

Gibbs kept his own face impassive. There was no point doing this unless he made it count. Tim needed the catharsis of being punished hard by someone he respected and whose authority he accepted. Going easy on him would be worse than not spanking him at all – it would mean inflicting physical pain without the benefit of emotional healing.

Gibbs nodded brusquely towards of the table. 'Bend over.'

He waited for McGee to begin to obey his order before taking him gently by the shoulders and guiding him into position. He gave him a few seconds to adjust before tapping his elbow.

'Give me your hand.'

'It's ok, Boss... you don't have to restrain me.'

'You can't control reflex, Tim. No one can. C'mon.'

McGee relaxed enough for Gibbs to pin his arm behind his back without hurting him. Holding him firmly, Gibbs leaned forward to speak softly just behind his ear.

'There's no shame in tears, Tim. I'm going to be hard on you. You scream as much as you need to. Do you understand?'

A voiceless gasp suggested that McGee was trying to answer but couldn't quite manage coherent speech. Instead, he nodded his head quickly before burying his face against the arm that Gibbs wasn't holding.

With grim determination, Gibbs raised the belt.


	3. Chapter 3

McGee heard the crack of his boss's belt against his ass and for a split second wondered why it didn't hurt. Then his brain caught up with what was happening and he felt a wave of pure pain flood through his body. His breath caught in his throat and he suddenly understood why Gibbs had insisted on holding him down. He choked back a sob and blinked frantically against the tears that threatened to spill down his face as the adrenaline rush already generated by his fear of being spanked suddenly spiked in response to the pain.

He was so busy trying to get over the first stroke of the belt that he forgot there would be more. The second lash caught him by surprise. He heard himself gasp, and felt the first tears streaking his cheeks.

The third brought a louder gasp of pain and humiliation. His ass already felt like it was on fire and he wondered, desperately, how many lashes he would have to endure.

His body seemed perversely determined to heighten his senses, as if trying to persuade whatever idiotic brain cells were responsible for movement that it was time to wake up and get some movement happening... away from the current stimulus in the vicinity of his butt, thank you very much. He almost laughed at the realisation that his scientist's mind was even analysing his own spanking, but another blinding stroke of the belt turned it into a choked cry of pain instead.

After the fifth stroke he lost control completely and was keening continuously against the table. He barely noticed each additional lash through the constant haze of pain that consumed him. He was aware of nothing except his burning, throbbing ass and was no longer counting when Gibbs delivered the tenth hard stroke and released his hold on him.

He realised that he was no longer being held down before he realised that the whipping had ended. His newly liberated arm joined the other in cradling his head as he continued to gasp, unable to catch his breath.

He felt Gibbs's hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. The voice that spoke was unexpectedly kind.

'I know how hard it was for you to face that, Tim. I'm proud of you, son.'

Then the warm pressure was removed and he heard the door shutting quietly. Grateful for privacy, he wrapped his boss's words around himself like a comfortable blanket and let himself cry.


End file.
